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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Afrika 'Baby Bam'
Afrika 'Baby Bam'
Vocals
Jimi Hendrix
Jimi Hendrix
Sampled Artist
Lou Donaldson
Lou Donaldson
Sampled Artist
Q-Tip
Q-Tip
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kamaal Fareed
Kamaal Fareed
Songwriter
Ali Shaheed Muhammad
Ali Shaheed Muhammad
Songwriter
Nathaniel Hall
Nathaniel Hall
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hoods
Hoods
Producer

Lyrics

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away But not Hip-Hop yo, ha-ha-ha And let it be known that we are on some um Ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh Ehh ahh, uhh, a-chicka-uhh And this ain't on the pop tip yo! Are y'all kids tucked in? (Yeah) Here we go People in the audience, they cry out "hoe" People with a gun, yo they'll cry out "bo!" I don't like a cop, I don't sell a rock But still the kanga's clock me, after a show Standin' on the stage and we're pourin' with sweat To people in the crowd I give what they get Papers make paid, babies make laid I don't really worry, nor do I fret Waitin' for the gimme and boy I got some Sweat like a peach and tart like a plum I thought what I think, I rock a bead-link Legally, I'll sip when I turn 21 A letter to the homeboy that freaked the head dome The army wants me to drop my microphone Gotta be brief, no orders from a chief Hot butter on what, say what, the popcorn On the tour bus, we hit the truck stop A dollar for some chips, a quarter for some pop We laugh and giggle some, Phife kiss the honeybuns Ali Shaheed Muhammad keeps talkin' that shop The brothers cruise on as we Quest, for the check Callin' up Famous to see, if it's there yet Not a bourgeoise, hate the seminar Ignorant flip, hey Miss you must jet Flex for the funkiest, buts start to bounce Measure Hip-Hop for weight, by the ounce Bush on the tush, you're pullin' while I push Play me for the punk then puss, feel the pounce It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep on) It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep, on) It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep on) It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep on) If the papes come, yo, yo, I won't riff I just sit down and get me a spliff With mines I was born, a child of the corn Molecules of the land they uplift Levels is straight, in fact they're rectified Adrenaline now is crazy multiplied Four and four is eight, the fraction makes the plate I make sure the Tribe is in With the quickness you bare the witness Flexin' and pumpin' with the fitness Movin' it uhh, doin' it uhh Those who oppose must hit the s-list Doin' it, doin' it with the whole frame Look what's in the mind and not in the brain On this you can quote, we on a diffy note Quest for the future, 'stead of the fame 191 brothers grabbin' they thingies Forgot the name, oh, equivalent to Jimmy Slip a little bit, you think I have to quit Ali Shaheed Muhammad, with the singy-singy Slammin' with a slammy you front, on the case Right or left nut, Ali plays the ace Do what you do, flam for a crew Bonita Applebum blows smoke in Sha's face Slang for the? I must, if ya have Dribble hops out giggle, yo proper term is laugh Brothers who are snakes, I label them as fakes Instincts to travel up the hood path, c'mon It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep on) It's like that y'all (keep on) It's like that y'all (keep on) It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep on) It's like that y'all (keep on) Freak freak y'all (keep on) Thank you As you all know, you just can't believe Everything you see and hear, can you? Now if you'll excuse me I must be on my way
Writer(s): Ali Shaheed Jones-muhammad, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, Nathaniel Phillip Hall Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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